


Gifted

by inoreuct



Series: Of Day and Night [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bokuaka - Freeform, Bokuaka fluff, Bokuto is such a simp and we stan, Brownies, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Happy Ending, KageHina - Freeform, KuroKen - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Mystery, Original Character(s), Superpowers, daisuga - Freeform, no beta we die like men, not too much angst don't worry, tsukkiyama - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inoreuct/pseuds/inoreuct
Summary: In a world where nearly everybody has a superhuman Gift, your superpower is both your strongest weapon and your biggest pride.But when Gifts start getting stolen in the night, Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, Daichi and Suga need to find the culprit before anyone gets seriously hurt.Everyone seems like a suspect, and the only people Akaashi and Bokuto can trust are one another. But what if the perpetrator is closer to home than they think?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio (background), Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi (background)
Series: Of Day and Night [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964323
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	1. The Taste of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> I got the inspiration for this after I finished watching WW84 at 3 a.m. and... um... here we are...
> 
> Huge HUGE thanks and lots of love to [aesthetic_cl0wn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthetic_cl0wn/pseuds/snOwtear), the absolute best writer friend I could ever possibly ask for. Go check out her works if you like pain and suffering and AoT and Levihan!! (as if AoT isn’t already painful enough, but we don’t call her the angst queen for nothing—)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be my wings, and we'll go anywhere  
> For we are the champions of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my girl [miyozun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyozun/pseuds/miyozun) for hyping me up! Go check out her fic [In The Other Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948716) (it’s a continuation of In Another Life by [LittleLuxray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLuxray) ;))

If you woke up the way Akaashi Keiji did every day, it would pretty much be a given that you’d flip all of your alarms two middle fingers, stay burrowed under the covers forever and never leave the bed. But fortunately (or _un_ fortunately), Akaashi Keiji had developed an intolerance for bullshit, in addition to mule-like stubbornness and determination and a marginally constant sense of responsibility from years of dealing with the world’s most emotional man-child, also known as his ex-best-friend-turned-boyfriend who currently had his massive wings cocooning them both. 

Akaashi squinted in the soft morning sunlight as loud, incessant buzzing snagged him by the ear and dragged him out of the haze of sleep and into consciousness. He carelessly flung an arm out from beneath the blanket of soft feathers and slapped at his phone on the bedside table, trying to shut his annoying alarm up before it woke Bokuto Koutarou, who was pressed flush against his back and still snoring softly. 

In the society that lived in the city of Donasticus, nearly everybody was born with a Gift, a special trait or ability unique to them and suited to their personality. Some were physical, as in the case of Bokuto’s wings, and some were hidden like Akaashi’s hyperintelligence.

Bokuto was part of the Vis faction, or the ‘brawn’ of the city. He was a city guard, one of the most highly-ranked ones, actually. It was perfectly normal for him to get home after midnight, and it wasn’t at all strange for Akaashi to still be awake at that time either. The raven-haired man belonged to the Intellegentia faction (the ‘brains’), a university lecturer to be precise, and most days (nights?) he sacrificed sleep in favour of his work. 

All of that meant that they were both utterly sleep-deprived, hopelessly addicted to caffeine, and overall just frazzled and desperate to get any extra minutes of shut-eye they possibly could. But because life was a bitch, Akaashi had to wake up at 7:30 a.m. every morning just so that he could scrape himself together and pretend that he wasn’t going absolutely batshit with exhaustion before he dragged his tired ass to the university by the Lightrail train. 

Now, don’t get him wrong, Akaashi loved his job. He really did. The pay was good, and literature was and always would be his favourite subject. But that morning, he really, _really_ didn’t feel like spending another shit-ton of time debating with his students (however sweet they were) about Shakespeare’s implications and inflections in _Romeo and Juliet_ just because Romeo was too fucking stupid to check for a pulse before he chugged down the goddamn poison. 

Akaashi groaned softly as he finally managed to shut his alarm off, letting his arm flop back against the cool mattress. _Love makes people do such stupid things._ He rolled around slowly, being careful not to snap or crush any of the soft, smooth feathers underneath him as he turned to face his sleeping boyfriend. A single manicured eyebrow rose. _Love makes people do very, very stupid things._

Bokuto’s mouth was hanging open, a trail of dried drool just barely visible on the cheek that was half-smushed against his damp pillow. His usually spiked-up hair was all over the place, hanging over his eyes and catching in thick iron-tinted lashes. Akaashi lifted his hand and gently traced along that sharp, strong jawline, defined in a way that was too attractive for Akaashi’s brain to process this early in the morning, hyperintelligence be damned.

Akaashi knew that Bokuto’s jawline hadn’t always been that sharp. He’d seen it still rounded with baby fat, his boyfriend’s cheeks plump with cherubic youth that had slowly faded away with time. He hadn’t had a single idea what the future held in store when he’d met Bokuto.

He could still remember that it was a rainy day. He’d been stranded beneath the awning of a small bakery with his mother, clutching her slender hand tightly as they sought shelter from the relentless downpour that battered down from the sky. It was rather useless; they were already soaked down to the bone and chilled to shivers, and the awning was flapping around so much it didn’t provide much shelter at all.

But, all of a sudden another little boy was running towards them, clad in a grey-and-white owl bucket hat and raincoat, both adorned with black accents. “We match!” he’d exclaimed delightedly, gesturing to Akaashi’s own tawny owl hat and coat, utterly unbothered by the way his hat was slowly slipping off-centre, cold rain dripping from the brim into his black-and-white hair. “Wanna come back to my place? It’s nearby!” he’d chirped, smiling widely and showcasing the gap in his front teeth. 

“Koutarou! Where did you— oh?” A woman with dark hair had walked up and laid a gentle hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. 

“Can they come over to our place, Ma? My new friend’s all wet!” 

His mother had looked up to Akaashi’s mother with a bemused smile on her lips. “Well, you guys do look pretty cold and drenched and overall miserable.” 

The other woman had laughed lightly. “It does feel pretty horrible. We would love to stop by, if it isn’t too much trouble.” “Come on!” Bokuto cheered, running off. After exchanging a look, Akaashi and his mother had dashed out from under the awning and ducked under Mrs Bokuto’s umbrella, all three of them booking it for the corner that Bokuto had disappeared around. 

It really wasn’t long before they’d reached a beautiful semi-detached house, resplendent with glass panels and dark wood. Bokuto had slammed the door open, still dressed in his little raincoat as urged them inside, handing them towels to dry off. 

“Kou, hang up your raincoat!” 

Bokuto had pouted, shrugging out of his raincoat reluctantly before hanging it up on a hook by the door. 

Akaashi’s eyes had widened at the sight of two small wings protruding from the boy’s shoulder blades, a fuzzy, gradient blend of black, grey and white that would eventually separate into individual colours. He remembered hesitantly stretching out a water-slicked hand to touch the soft fluff, before drawing back as Bokuto’s mother handed him a spare set of pyjamas and guided him to the bathroom.

As their parents had lunch together, Bokuto and Akaashi had sat on Bokuto’s bedroom floor, playing with a Lego set as they chatted. Akaashi learned that Bokuto chatted _a lot_. About everything, really. About his two sisters who were still in school, about his love for owls, about how he wanted to be a guard when he grew up. 

Akaashi was a good listener, but the problem was that he didn’t know how to show it. His hyperintelligence was more of an IQ boost than an EQ thing, and he never seemed to know what to say to others. Bokuto didn’t seem to mind when Akaashi didn’t say anything, though; he gushed over Akaashi’s miniature Lego replica of the Empire State Building with so much sincerity and gusto that it brought a flush to Akaashi’s cheeks. 

Sure, Akaashi was used to getting compliments, but not compliments from Bokuto. He still hadn’t gotten used to those, and he highly suspected that he never would. 

It was always different, getting compliments from Bokuto. Akaashi allowed himself to rake his boyfriend’s hair back from his face, to take a better look at those high cheekbones and unfairly long lashes. Somehow, somewhere along the line, Akaashi Keiji had fallen for golden eyes and gravity-defying hair and humongous wings. But he also loved the Bokuto before him at the moment, golden eyes hidden behind relaxed eyelids, streaked hair soft and floppy between his fingers. 

Akaashi felt Bokuto’s wings shift beneath him, and he knew that his boyfriend was on the cusp of waking up. 

“Mmm,” Bokuto groaned without opening his eyes, pulling Akaashi closer to him with arms around his waist. “S’too early, Keiji. You need to rest more…”

Akaashi smiled softly as Bokuto’s wings flexed, wrapping around the both of them even tighter. “I know, but I have to get to work. Am I crushing your wing?” 

Bokuto shook his head with a huge yawn, scrunching his nose. “Nah. Good morning, Keiji.” He leaned in for a kiss, missing terribly and pecking the side of Akaashi’s nose instead; understandable, seeing as his eyes were still resolutely shut like he refused to acknowledge that he was awake. 

Akaashi’s laughter was raspy and soft, but happy all the same. “Good morning, Koutarou. Go back to sleep, you don’t have to get up until 9.” 

Bokuto was more than happy to comply, shoving his nose into Akaashi’s hair and wrapping them up in his wings.

It was way too easy for Akaashi to just laze there for a while, his eyelids growing heavier as he trailed his fingers through smooth, warm feathers. Bokuto’s wings were wide and strong, each one easily 8.5 feet long when fully extended on either side. His feathers were black, white and grey, smooth to the touch, the vanes neat and sleek. Akaashi constantly told him not to, but whenever the scholar couldn’t find a pen, Bokuto would simply pluck a feather from his wings for Akaashi to use as a quill.

_Get up. Get up. Get up get up gotta get up come on Keiji…_ Akaashi knew that if he didn’t motivate himself to crawl out of his warm comfortable cocoon, he would never get to work. He allowed himself one more deep inhale with his nose buried in Bokuto’s neck before preparing to roll out of bed. 

His phone chirped.

_Oh, damn you for breaking my momentum._ He scooped up his phone with a grouchy huff, jabbing at the notification on his lock screen and scanning through the email that popped up. _Dear Mr Akaashi, we regret to inform you that the National University of Donasticus will not be holding any lessons today due to a feral cat that is currently loose in the school compound. Classes will resume as soon as we catch the feline. Please use this time to plan for lessons and rest up. Sincerely, the Head Council of NUD._

Akaashi read the email again. He snorted delicately. _Feral cat? Well, I’m not complaining…_ He dropped his phone into the mess of covers on the mattress and stretched his arms upward, a satisfied sound leaving the back of his throat. _Free, free, free for one day…_

He must have moved a little too much, for when he looked back down, hooded golden eyes were gazing sleepily at him, a slow blink clearing away the hazy look in Bokuto’s eyes. 

“Good news?” 

“Mhm,” Akaashi hummed, sliding his arms around Bokuto’s neck and rolling his shoulders back. “I don’t have to go in today.” 

His boyfriend’s eyes widened, the other man now nearly fully awake. “Seriously? You don’t need to teach today?”

“Yep. There’s a feral cat in the school, apparently.” 

Bokuto’s wings puffed up just like how they did whenever he was happy, his arms tight around Akaashi’s waist. “Which means more quality time for us,” he sang, exhaling into Akaashi’s messy black curls. They had known each other since they were children, but Bokuto and Akaashi had only started dating about a month ago. With their busy schedules, it was hard for them to find time for dates other than going out to dinner or a movie night at home, even though Akaashi had decided to move into Bokuto’s apartment. 

The guard had bought the high-rise apartment as soon as he’d hit eighteen, and just shy of his twenty-third birthday, he’d found out that it was possible to make space in his home for one more. 

Suddenly, Bokuto’s head snapped up and he sucked in a quick breath like he’d gotten an idea. He flashed Akaashi a beaming smile and stretched out his wings, pushing the covers off before standing up. “Get changed, angel. I have a surprise for you.” 

Akaashi scrolled through his phone in bed for a little while longer while his boyfriend was in the toilet brushing his wings. He didn’t seem like the type, but Bokuto was really big on keeping his feathers clean and smooth for what he called ‘optimum cuddling capacity’. Eventually, Akaashi dragged his achy limbs to the closet and swapped his thin, oversized grey cotton tee (Bokuto’s) and black boxers (also Bokuto’s) for a more fitting T-shirt and black cargo pants. 

He was just adjusting the belt sitting above his hips when Bokuto power-walked out of the bathroom, gently grabbing Akaashi’s wrist. 

“Come on! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before—”

Akaashi nearly stumbled as Bokuto led him out of the bedroom and to their balcony, the small platform overlooking the city from thirty-seven stories up. “Should I be concerned right now, Kou?” 

Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, still flopping over his forehead; he hadn’t even bothered to gel it up, even though he’d changed out of his sweatpants and into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt.

Akaashi tried not to get sidetracked by the way his muscled flexed and strained against the cotton and he raised his arm.

“Keiji. My smart, beautiful boyfriend.”

A small smile crept onto Akaashi’s lips, and he raised an eyebrow. 

Bokuto waggled his own eyebrows playfully as he squished Akaashi’s cheeks together with palms on either side of his boyfriend’s face. “Say, hypothetically, if I grabbed you and jumped off the balcony right now, would my wings be able to stop us from turning into bloody pancakes on the pavement?”

Akaashi’s eyebrow crept even higher, but he considered the strength and size of Bokuto’s wings as he did some quick mental calculations. _Quick_ as in barely two seconds; he already had his own and Bokuto’s exact weights memorised, as well as the distance to the ground, _and_ he’d already factored in the wind speed and atmospheric pressure. “Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically.”

“Well… there’s a hypothetical ninety-six-point-four per cent chance that we’ll live.”

The dangerous grin that slashed across Bokuto’s did funny things to Akaashi’s stomach, his smile wild and a little reckless. “That’s good enough for me.”

Akaashi barely had time to react before arms were locking him tight against a chiselled torso and tipping them both sideways over the metal balcony railing. 

The scholar’s breath whooshed straight out of his lungs as they fell straight downwards, tumbling head over foot until he couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down and was the sky grey and cloudy or was that the concrete pavement that would smash his skull to teeny-tiny irreparable smithereens? 

Akaashi couldn’t tell you. 

All he could feel through the harsh wind whipping at his skin was Bokuto against him, warm and solid and with his wings still folded around them. _Why are his wings still around us?!_ “Oh my god,” he honest-to-god _whimpered_ , burying his face into Bokuto’s neck, his mind racing and calculating the possibility of this being that remaining three-point-six per cent that they would both die painful, agonising deaths. Or maybe it wouldn't hurt at all. Either way, Akaashi _really_ didn’t want to find out. 

“Oh my god, we’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. Roof. Roof. Koutarou, there’s— Kou, roof, _roof_ —!”

Bokuto’s wings shot out on either side of them, catching an updraft and pulling them into the air just seconds before they hit the shiny, painted concrete roof of the carpark beneath their apartment complex. 

*

Bokuto chuckled lightly as Akaashi clung to him tightly. His boyfriend was still tense, eyes shut tight and face scrunched up, waiting for the inevitable (to the scholar, at least) crash that would never come; at least not while Bokuto was there. He would never have jumped off the balcony if he wasn’t confident in his abilities, in his wings; he had flown for hours on end before with no downsides except for a little fatigue, and he knew for a fact that he could carry Akaashi with ease. A short flight with a passenger was small potatoes.

“Keiji,” he muttered, leaning in close so that Akaashi could hear him over the wind rushing past their ears. “You can open your eyes now, angel.” 

Akaashi still didn’t reply _or_ open his eyes, but he relaxed some at least. Bokuto extended his wings fully and let himself ride the air currents, gliding along at a comfortable pace. He slowly slid Akaashi around so his boyfriend was facing the ground, arms locked tight around his slim waist. He could feel Akaashi dig slender fingers into his forearms and he felt a little guilty about making him this terrified. _Maybe this was a bad idea…_

“Koutarou.” 

Bokuto slipped his chin over Akaashi’s shoulder, lips right next to his ear. “Yes, Keiji?”

The raven-haired man swallowed, fingers dragging across the veins on the backs of Bokuto’s hands. “...I want to do this again. After today.” 

A quick peek to the side revealed Akaashi’s wide, gunmetal-blue eyes glittering in the sunlight, his lips parted in wonder. Bokuto knew how he felt. The first time he’d flown over the city, he’d nearly forgotten to actually fly. Donasticus was beautiful from this vantage point, dozens of high-rise buildings crafted from glass and steel glowing under the light. The labyrinthine streets were laid out at their feet like an intricate map, littered with cars and electric bicycles, woven through with Lightrail tracks. 

A shaky, breathy laugh escaped Akaashi’s lips, his body relaxing and stretching out along Bokuto’s. Another laugh bubbled up, and then another, and before long he was whooping like a madman, laughter loud and wild and unrestrained. “ _WHOO-HOOOOO!_ ” he screamed, taking a leap of faith and letting go of Bokuto’s arms. He stretched them out to the sides like wings of his very own, wind ripping through his hair and twisting up his clothes. 

  
There was this rush in his chest he’d never felt before, like being up in the blue, cloudless sky had unlocked some part of him that had been hidden away so well he wasn’t even aware of its existence. A sweetness laced the air that touched his tongue through his parted lips, the taste of _freedom_ rushing through his veins in the form of pure adrenaline as Akaashi and Bokuto soared over the glittering metropolis that they called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got inspiration for Bokuto’s wings from [here](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2181499803409047/)!


	2. A Theft in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if something you always took for granted  
> Was taken away?

Akaashi jerked back as a duo of young boys squeezed their way in front of him, Bokuto instantly grabbing his arm to help him stabilise himself. The children chortled wildly as they sprinted past, and Akaashi saw a familiar-looking joy in their eyes, a small smile creeping onto his lips. 

“You okay, angel?” Bokuto slipped an arm around his waist, wings curving around both of them as he frowned at the two small figures wending their way through the crowded street. 

“I’m fine, Kou. It’s okay, they’re just kids,” Akaashi replied softly, planting a kiss on Bokuto’s cheek to appease him. 

Donasticus was always crawling with people, even in the middle of the night, Now though, just before noon, the streets and alleys and markets were packed to the absolute max during the lunch rush hour. Kids were screaming and businesspeople striding quickly, briefcases in hand as their heels clicked on the paving stones. Vendors yelled offers for their goods, some offering jewellery and clothes while others offered food. 

Akaashi sucked in a deep, elated breath as he caught the smell of frying tortillas and grilled chicken, instinctively drifting towards the direction of a roadside kebab stall. He’d been starving ever since Bokuto had brought them down at the edge of the market district, his legs shaky enough that his boyfriend had offered to piggyback him before he refused out of preserving his dignity. The scholar glanced down at his watch. _Maybe just a quick wrap…_

He was just about to tug Bokuto to go get food when he heard a shout, somehow carrying over the ruckus and din of the bustling marketplace. 

“Brokuto! Akaashi!” 

Akaashi whipped around to see a tall, messy-haired man struggling through the crowd towards them, a closer look revealing the smaller hoodie-clad figure that was being dragged along by the wrist behind him. 

“Kubro! And Kenma!” Bokuto bounded forward with a blinding grin, tackling Kuroo Tetsurou in a bear hug that sent the lanky man stumbling. Kuroo regained his footing and hugged back as Kozume Kenma gave a small wave by way of greeting, smiling slightly as Akaashi came forward to wrap him in a one-armed embrace. “Keiji.”

“Kenma.” Akaashi ran his fingertips through the bleach-blond ends of straight hair. “Wanna grab a bite before we go and watch our boys turn into cavemen again?” 

The shorter man gave a rare laugh. “As long as Tetsu’s paying,” he murmured, eyes sliding over to where the dark-haired man was currently mussing Bokuto’s ungelled streaks with a slender hand.

Kuroo somehow picked up on Kenma’s words and snorted. “Jeez, kitten. I’m your best friend, not your benefactor.” 

“Whatever you say,” the coder hummed, already walking towards the kebab stall with his hands shoved into his hoodie’s front pocket. 

Kuroo and Kenma were two of Akaashi’s and Bokuto’s best friends, with Kuroo being a guard in the Vis faction and Kenma being a coder of the Intelligentia faction. The two of them had grown up together, and they’d met Akaashi and Bokuto when all four of them were in college. Kenma naturally took to Akaashi, with both of their more subdued dispositions and same age. Kuroo and Bokuto were both chaotic messes on their own. Put together, they were… well, as dangerous and volatile as flint and steel. Akaashi didn’t think he’d be able to count the sheer number of shenanigans that the two had gotten their friend group into. 

Kenma had the Gift of projecting his conscience into electronics. Kuroo was a city guard but unlike everyone else, he was Giftless; it was rare, but sometimes people were born without Gifts and Kuroo was one of them. They still loved him all the same, though, and the fact that he was a mean cook certainly didn’t hurt.

“Ahhh, Kenma…” Kuroo drawled, as the other man rattled off his order to the stall owner, “I’ve always been a nice person, and people like you exploit it.” 

He smirked before Kenma levelled him with a cool stare. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I’ll just ditch that technologically-enhanced battle axe I was working on for your birthday…”

“Oi, oi,” he whined, quickly fishing his wallet from his pocket and paying the vendor as his best friend took his wrap and Akaashi stepped up to order. “Let’s not get too hasty, now.” 

They ambled through the crowded streets, Akaashi occasionally feeding Bokuto bites of his wrap and getting rewarded with the sight of a happy wiggle of wings. The guards couldn’t eat too much; they were going to be training soon, after all, and eating before doing all that physical activity was a ticket straight to regurgitating your guts. 

Kenma was a little more reluctant to share, but he caved after Kuroo pouted at him. Akaashi glanced discreetly at Bokuto only to find a his boyfriend looking back with a slightly raised brow. While their own relationship had bloomed into something much more than just close friendship, Kuroo and Kenma had never crossed that line. Akaashi didn’t know if they loved each other as more than anything platonic, but he did know that Kenma made a _lot_ of exceptions for Kuroo. _Maybe, one day…_

When they arrived, the training arena was strangely empty compared to the rest of the city, but it allowed the gang to take a proper breath of fresh air. The space was huge, a circular area with a floor of packed dirt missing a ceiling. Spectator stands lined the sides, stacked in neat rows, and weapons of all sorts were placed in racks by the entrance; spears, axes, swords, bows and the like. 

There was a _thump_ as Sawamura Daichi let his sword drop to the ground in the centre of the arena and lifted his arm in a wave, sweat glistening on his bronzed skin in the afternoon sun. Akaashi knew he didn’t have to look far to find another silver-haired man nearby; Sugawara Koushi was already scrambling out of the stands and jogging towards them, tugging him and Kenma into a warm hug. 

Akaashi couldn’t resist tucking his nose into Suga’s hair and taking a soft inhale. The intelligence agent always smelled like vanilla sugar and spearmint, and Akaashi knew for a fact that their friend group had come to associate that scent with comfort and a safe space. 

“Hey, Kenma, Keiji,” Suga breathed with a wide grin, looping his arms through Akaashi’s and Kenma’s after letting them go. He was Donasticus’s best informant; whatever information you wanted, he could get (at a price, of course). He looked soft with his silver hair and slim build, but with his Gift of weather control, it wasn’t hard for him to extricate information from even the most tight-lipped of people. He was kind, yes, and he took great care of his own, but Suga was the kind of person who would threaten to fry people with lightning if they got in his way. 

The informant led them a few rows up the stands, high up enough that they had a good view but close enough to hear what the guards were saying. Bokuto and Kuroo had already picked out their weapons, the winged man swinging a claymore in his hands while the other held a Danish axe. Kuroo was built like a lynx, his body long and wrapped in lean muscle. The agility it gave him made up for his lack of a Gift, and he was tall enough to look down at all of them; it was a long-standing inside joke between the six of them that his Gift was being part feline, although that wasn’t actually the case. 

The gang of four had grown to six when Bokuto and Kuroo met Daichi in the guard corps after they graduated from college. Akaashi, Kenma and Suga watched as they chatted softly, Kuroo backing up to the sidelines as Bokuto and Daichi crouched into battle stances. The smooth, hard plastic of the spectator seats was warm under Akaashi’s thighs as he settled back, working through the last of his lunch.

“No shield?” Bokuto’s grin was a wild thing, all teeth and glittering confidence as his wings flared out behind him, casting long shadows beneath the glaring sun. “All right, then. Better think fast, Sawamura,” he laughed, hefting his claymore in both hands as he dug his feet into the ground. Akaashi watched with a proud grin as Bokuto launched himself forward with a flap of his wings, the muscles in his body morphing into cogs of a well-oiled machine. He had to squint in the sunlight, though, and he could feel a bead of sweat run unpleasantly down the back of his neck. “Koushi, I hate to be a whiner, but can’t you make it a little cooler?”

Suga turned to stare at Akaashi with a deadpan expression. “If I made it cooler, they wouldn’t sweat as much,” he said, jabbing a thumb towards where their boyfriends were duelling. “We wouldn’t be getting the full experience.” 

Akaashi let his eyes rove hungrily over Bokuto’s biceps that were already glowing with sweat, bulging as he twisted into a low spin and swung his sword upwards diagonally. “I want to argue but I can’t,” he sighed, shrugging. 

“So you two are really gonna leave me to melt in this heat just so you can thirst over your boyfriends?” Kenma frowned at them, looking extremely done. 

“Yep.”

“Mhm.”

While Kuroo was tall and leaner, both Bokuto and Daichi were built stockier with more defined muscles, and they tended to fight with more brute strength than speed. Daichi swung his broadsword up to block an overhead strike, spinning to the side as he swung his blade horizontally to Bokuto’s midsection. Bokuto braced his claymore vertically in his hands to catch Daichi’s offence, his wings extending to slow his skid as the other guard pressed him backwards. 

Suga whooped as Daichi blocked another strike with his forearm, clapping and cheering his name as the metal glanced straight off his flesh. “Y’know, Bokuto, I don’t need a shield when I _am_ the shield,” he panted, stumbling forward with a wheezed laugh as Bokuto got through his defence and whacked him over the head with a wing. When they called Daichi thick-skinned, they meant it literally; the captain of the guard had the Gift of impenetrable skin.

Akaashi glanced to the side as Suga nudged him gently with an elbow, the other man’s full lips twisted into a smirk as he scooted to the edge of his shiny plastic seat.

“Twenty bucks says Daichi’s gonna win.” 

Scoffing lightly, Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “Please. Kou’s gonna win and we both know it, but I’ll humour you,” he mumbled around the last mouthful of his wrap. 

“Hello?” Suga tone was playfully incredulous as he blinked, huffing good-naturedly. “Have you even _seen_ Daichi’s thighs?” 

“Have you seen Koutarou’s _arms_?” 

Akaashi and Suga both knew there was only one way to settle their little dispute. In tandem, they turned to Kenma. The other man gave a small, resigned sigh, looking up from where he had been preoccupied with his projectable digital screen. “Tetsu would send them both six feet under. That’s all I’m going to say.” 

Suga let out a melodramatic gasp of faux betrayal. “ _Kenma_! How could you!” He slumped back in his seat and flung a hand over his forehead. “Ugh. Your betrayal is decimating my soul.”

“You have no soul, Koushi,” Akaashi murmured as he studied his nails nonchalantly, but he couldn’t resist a small, fond grin as Suga wailed again.

Even Kenma let out a small snicker, nearly hidden by the clangs of metal against metal. He was just about to provide his input when the arena doors slammed open, a flash of orange barreling into the arena with a tall, lanky blond hot on his heels. Bokuto and Daichi broke apart, panting hard as the orange-haired newcomer sprinted by with a quick wave, all the way to the edge of the stands, peering up at Suga with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “Suga-san! I woke up slow as fuck!”

They watched as Suga blinked once, twice, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You woke up… slow as fuck. You took a long time to wake up, or…?” But he had lost the newcomer’s attention. The orange-haired man had caught sight of Kenma, and they were both frozen on the spot. 

Now, Akaashi didn’t know Hinata Shouyou personally, but he did know that the guard and Kenma had dated for a while before they broke up because their relationship didn’t work out. Akaashi _did_ know the annoyed-looking blond behind him vaguely; members of the same factions somehow always knew each other one way or another, whether personally or through the six degrees of separation. Tsukishima Kei had the Gift of being able to speak any language he desired, extinct or not. 

The tension in the air felt like a rubber band that was stretched to maximum capacity, poised to snap with the smallest agitation. Kenma rose stiffly from where he’d been slouched back in his seat, peering down at Hinata. Everyone only relaxed when they saw a minuscule smile curve his lips. “Shouyou.”

Hinata’s hair seemed to dim a little, going from a fiery orange to more of a burnished bronze as he inclined his head in a fond nod. “Kenma.”

Suga let out a small cough. “Hinata…?”

“Oh, yeah!” The guard exclaimed, whipping back to Suga as the silver-haired man walked down the stands. “I woke up this morning, and I was gonna run to the grocery store, right? But I wasn’t nearly as fast as I usually am!” 

A hand clapped down on Hinata’s shoulder, and the shorter man jumped a little at Daichi’s sudden appearance. “How fast were you, exactly?” he asked, frowning pensively. 

“Well, I’d say about… normal people speed?”

Akaashi glanced at Suga, waiting for an explanation that the informant provided with an apologetic smile. “Hinata’s a speedster. His Gift of superhuman speed is… really something else.” Suga looked at Hinata with a fond grin, ruffling his orange hair as the pouting guard playfully tried to push his hand away. 

Daichi was still glaring at nothing in particular, his jaw tightening. “And you were still fast yesterday night?” 

“Yes, captain. I finished up with guard duty and then went straight home, and then I didn’t see or hear anything last night because I was asleep, but…”

“It had to be during the night,” Tsukishima spoke up for the first time, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But _how_ is the question.”

Akaashi hummed thoughtfully, leaning into Suga’s side. “Is it an individual thing? Maybe the Gifts are… erasing themselves somehow? And is it just Hinata, or is everybody else…”

“Well, maybe someone has a device of some sort,” Kuroo mused, tugging a hand through his hair, “or a Gift that enables them to steal other Gifts.”

“Is that even possible?” Bokuto groaned, pressing his palms over his face as he tilted his head backwards. 

“Hypothetically, yes,” Tsukishima murmured, looking supremely impatient yet still rather concerned. 

Akaashi let his eyes drift back to Hinata. The younger man’s eyes were murky, swirling with panic, worry and a little bit of fear. He reached out to put a light hand on Hinata’s arm, his heart aching. “Are you alright?” 

Hinata’s smile struggled on his lips. “I… don’t know. Akaashi, right?” 

“Yeah.” Akaashi felt for the guard. Their Gifts were something so common nowadays, everybody took them for granted. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without his hyperintelligence, and it had to be even worse with a physical Gift. “We’re gonna get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

Hinata could only give a wan, quivering smile in return. 

Akaashi glanced around at the little circle they had formed; at some time during their conversation, he, Suga and Kenma had walked down to the arena floor. _If Hinata’s really gotten his Gift stolen… Why? Why would anyone do something like this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> Have you eaten yet today? Drank enough water? Please remember to take care of yourselves :D Love y'all >_<


	3. Brownies Don’t Solve Our Problems, But They Come Pretty Damn Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Bokuaka fluff before shit really hits the fan ;]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Yes!! Hello!! I’m back!! *awkward crow noises in the background*
> 
> Ehe. I know this chapter is late and it’s really short and probably unsatisfying *nervous laughter intensifies* I’ll just, um, go, yeah— *scrambles backwards out the door*

Kuroo wouldn’t stop pacing. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until Akaashi was starting to get a headache just by watching the dark-haired guard stomp tracks all over the arena’s dirt floor. 

He whipped around all of a sudden, his feline eyes narrowed and troubled. “Where were all of you last night?”

Akaashi took in a sharp inhale. He was a little surprised that Kuroo would ask them such a question, but he supposed that someone had to, even if they were friends. 

Tsukki raised a pale, sardonic eyebrow. “I was coding at home. Do I really need to show you my laptop history?” 

“Gaming,” Kenma muttered, shifting impatiently and reaching back to scoop his bleach-blond hair off his nape and into a low bun. 

Hinata rubbed at the back of his neck, scratching beneath his white t-shirt. “You already know I finished guard duty and went straight home.” 

“Same for Bo and I,’ Daichi hummed, raking his sweat-streaked hair off his forehead before it stubbornly flicked itself back down. He looked up as the sun’s glare lessened a little; Suga had a palm lifted to the sky, shifting a cloud over them for a short reprieve. 

“I was lazing at home the entire day,” the informant sighed, working a crick out of his neck and rubbing his temples; he was one of the strongest Gifteds out there, but using his powers always came with a physical strain. 

Akaashi shifted his body and reached over to Suga’s shoulders, digging his thumbs into the tense muscle and working out the knots, smiling at his friend’s grateful whisper of thanks. “I was working on my lesson plan for today, but my lecture got cancelled.” 

Kuroo started pacing again, his boots leaving scuff marks on the ground. “And after you guys got home?” 

Akaashi had to hold back an eye-roll as soon as he saw Suga’s face. 

“Do I really need to show you the hickey on the inside of my thigh to prove that—” 

“ _Koushi._ ” His friend’s smirk was nothing short of devious, and Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh lightly, giving the back of his silver head a light, playful whack. 

Suga was… frisky, to say the least. Did he look like a literal angel? Yes. Was he an incredibly, indispensably reliable saint to his friends? Also yes. Was he plain, or even remotely vanilla? ...No. “Koutarou crashed as soon as he got home, he went to sleep before I did.” 

“Yeah!” Bokuto agreed, narrowing his eyes at his boyfriend playfully. “On that note, we need to talk about your nonexistent sleep schedule, angel.”

“I _have_ a sleep schedule, it’s just—”

“Completely whack?”

“...Yeah.” 

Kuroo’s eyes travelled between each of their faces before he finally seemed satisfied with their answers, closing his interrogation with an apologetic huff. “I’m sorry, I just…” He looked up as Bokuto placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, Kuroo. We understand.” Bokuto rolled his shoulders back, a soft noise of satisfaction escaping his throat. “Why don’t we all get home, hmm? We’ve all had a lot to take in.” He ruffled Hinata’s hair fondly, messing up already-unruly orange curls. 

Akaashi sighed, dropping his forehead onto Suga’s shoulder. _Gods, it’s not even three yet and I’m exhausted..._

*

Akaashi’s shoulders slouched in relief as he slipped the key card from the slot of their digital lock, stepping into the cool reprieve of their apartment. He tripped out of his shoes and dragged his feet to the couch as Bokuto shuffled about behind him. It felt amazing to stretch out across the squishy cushions, resting his head on the leather-wrapped armrest and wiggling until he was situated comfortably. 

He felt… sick. His eyes were stinging slightly, an obvious side effect from his long-standing sleep deprivation. His entire face felt puffy and congested, and for some reason his jaw ached. A bone-deep weariness made him settle further into the couch, scrunching his face intensely as he arched his spine into the couch, stretching his lower back. 

It was too much to process; Akaashi was too tired, like someone had pulled a plug and all the energy had drained straight out of his body. Hinata had just lost his Gift. Gone, just like that. They had no idea if it was because of someone else, if it was a one-time thing, or if the perpetrator (if there was one at all) would strike again, _who_ they would target next. 

His eyes were already sliding shut when Bokuto walked over to drape and tuck a knitted blanket over his lateral form and press a soft kiss to his hair, a whispered ‘sweet dreams, Keiji’ leaving his lips.

*

When Akaashi awoke, a soft golden glow was bleeding in through the full-length sliding glass balcony doors, the molten sun just on the edge of dipping under the metal bar of their railing. His mouth felt horribly dry as he swallowed and struggled onto his back, flipping the blanket off his shoulders and looking up.

Bokuto cradled his boyfriend’s head in his lap, callused fingertips trailing lightly along his hairline. “Hey, you.”

A soft noise slipped from Akaashi’s lips as he sat up slowly, leaning against the hand that pressed to the small of his aching back. Bokuto had been watching the television, apparently; a volleyball match was on, playing softly in the background. “Hey, yourself. What time is it, Kou?”

“Mm, almost six.”

“ _What?_ ” If Akaashi hadn’t been awake before, he certainly was now. “I need to go get started on dinner—” 

He made to get off the couch, but Bokuto held him down with hands clasped loosely around his waist. “Would you mind terribly if we didn’t have a proper meal tonight?” 

“...If you suggest having instant ramen again, I _will_ make you sleep on the couch.”

Bokuto’s laugh loosened something in Akaashi’s chest, made it a little easier for him to breathe. “As much as I love peeling my face off the leather as soon as I wake up, that wasn’t what I was gonna say.” He carefully tugged Akaashi into his lap, lacing their fingers across his boyfriend’s stomach as he tucked his chin over Akaashi’s collarbone. “What’s on your mind, Keiji?”

Akaashi didn’t even try to deny the fact that he was worried; Bokuto knew him too well for that. “I was just thinking…” His boyfriend was silent, waiting patiently as he gathered his thoughts. “I was thinking about Hinata. About him losing his Gift. What if—” Akaashi snapped his jaw shut, suddenly struck with the absurdity of his concerns. “What if _we_ lost our Gifts?”

It was only when Bokuto gave his fingers a gentle squeeze did Akaashi realise they were trembling. If his boyfriend were anyone else, Akaashi would have braced himself for his worries to be brushed off, pushed aside with an airy laugh, but this was Bokuto. Bokuto who had never, _ever_ once made fun of Akaashi’s overthinking, who listened to all his thoughts and opinions with an open mind and always gave his honest opinion. 

“There is the possibility that Hinata lost his Gift because of an external factor,” Bokuto mused, now nuzzling into the side of Akaashi’s neck, his wings curving around their torsos. “But this could also be an independent case, and I don’t think it would do us any good to worry incessantly even _if_ the entire situation called for it.” His left wing batted at Akaashi’s head playfully, feathers catching in raven curls before they pulled away slightly. 

Akaashi hummed, leaning backwards into Bokuto’s thickly-muscled chest. He let his eyes slide shut as he settled in, Bokuto’s arms a grounding weight around his waist, hugging him close as he tipped his head back onto his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he sighed, rolling his head from side to side to work out a crick in his neck. “But I just… What would we do without Gifts?”

“Well, would it be that terrible?” Bokuto murmured, dropping a sweet kiss on Akaashi’s jaw.

 _No hyperintelligence. No more flying over the city… But is being normal really so bad?_ “...I suppose not.” Akaashi forced himself to sit up straight before he dozed off again. “So what were you planning to have for dinner again?” 

Bokuto grabbed the remote and switched the television off, hopping up as soon as Akaashi shifted off his lap, leaning down to steal a quick kiss before dashing to the kitchen. “You’ll see!” he called, already clattering around, presumably fishing out ingredients. 

Akaashi heaved himself to his feet with a grunt and an exasperated smile. _I’d better go before he somehow blows up the countertop again…_

*

Akaashi tried to hide his grin as Bokuto sneezed violently, sending even more flour flying up into the air. _Maybe asking him to mix the dry ingredients wasn’t the best idea…_ While his boyfriend was busy combining sugar, flour, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, chocolate chips and salt in a huge metal bowl, Akaashi was whisking together the eggs, olive oil and water. 

Akaashi was surprised to find out that Bokuto had run to the supermarket and bought the ingredients to make chocolate fudge brownies while he was asleep. The teacher had used to stress-bake; cakes, pastries, anything really, but he hadn’t been able to find the time in a while. 

There was peppy, energetic music flowing from the speakers and Akaashi couldn’t help bopping his head as he whisked, leaning over the counter to check the recipe on his phone screen. 

“Kou, you done with the dry stuff? They said that we need to put the dry ingredients into the wet ones and then…” he glanced at Bokuto before looking back at the recipe, “fold until combined.”

“Yeah, I’ll line the pan?” Bokuto asked, sneezing once more. He set his bowl and wooden spoon down on the countertop and grabbed a roll of parchment paper.

“Mhm…” Akaashi hummed absentmindedly, carefully lifting the bowl of dry ingredients and tipping them into his own bowl, dipping the wooden spoon into the mixture. 

The long handle was cool and smooth to the touch as Akaashi tightened his fingers. He wasn’t worried per se, just… concerned. Only slightly concerned. Akaashi had always been an overthinker, and he knew that his mind wouldn’t be able to rest until he processed and predicted exactly what he would do in every possible scenario that could happen—

“I’m waiting, patiently anticipating—” Bokuto sang, his wings swaying from side to side to the beat as he folded a piece of parchment paper. His voice was soft enough that he could have been singing to himself, but the smirk he sent Akaashi screamed that he knew exactly what his dark-haired boyfriend had been (over)thinking about before Bokuto distracted him. “Your arrival, and I’m hating—” He didn’t seem like the type, but Bokuto could sing, and sing _well_ at that. 

_Fitting_ , Akaashi thought, the metal mixing bowl warming up between his hands as a smile crept onto his lips. _An angel’s voice for a man with angel’s wings._

“It takes so long to get to my house, to take me out!” Bokuto’s voice was rich and smooth and deep, bouncing off the walls of their kitchen like a rubber ball. “Tonight I'm gonna give you all my love in the back seat, bubble pop electric, bubble pop— c’mon, angel, sing!” He plonked the baking tray onto the marble countertop and rounded the island, sliding his arms around Akaashi’s ribs and spinning them around.

And in Bokuto’s arms, ears ringing with his boyfriend’s boisterous laugh, Akaashi felt something in his chest pull tight and then slacken. His anxiety and worry had been a heavy sandbag in his chest the entire day, weighing him down. Now, though, the fabric had been ripped open and all the negativity inside was pouring out, draining away, slipping like water through his fingers. 

Even if he wanted to, Akaashi wouldn’t have been able to hold back the loud laugh that bubbled up and filled his chest with warmth, spilling from his lips as he tossed his head back. “Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the back seat, bubble pop electric! Uh-oh, in the back seat!” 

Bokuto turned Akaashi under his arm, wings coming forward to wrap over the dark-haired man’s shoulders as the guard lowered him into a dip. A shocked yelp eked its way out of Akaashi’s throat, quickly morphing into a small giggle as Bokuto yanked him back upright and swung them around again. 

At that moment, bopping around ridiculously in his kitchen with the love of his life and doing swing steps to a song that was decidedly too fast for swing… Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to worry about anything else. 

*

Akaashi bit down carefully and he nearly moaned. He’d forgotten how therapeutic baking could be, and also that the end products also contributed to the satisfaction; the chocolate fudge brownie was warm and rich and decadent, crisp on the outside and molten in the middle. Paired with vanilla ice-cream on the side, Akaashi was seriously considering throwing all of his healthy eating agendas out the window and having dessert for dinner every night. 

The sun had set ages ago, but it didn’t matter, not when Bokuto’s golden eyes were glowing like the sun itself as he fed Akaashi. “Good?” 

“Mmm,” his boyfriend sighed around the spoon, lashes fluttering as he wrapped his hand around Bokuto’s. “So good.” He tugged the spoon towards himself and cut into another brownie on the plate between them, scooping a bit of ice-cream with it before offering it to Bokuto. “Try?”

Akaashi’s cheeks warmed a little as Bokuto’s lips wrapped around the metal, his elbows digging just a little harder into the glass coffee table beneath them. 

“I knew it.” Bokuto’s eyes grew even brighter (if that was physically possible at all) as he chewed thoughtfully. “I knew it! Everything you bake comes out amazing, Keiji!” 

Akaashi had never really been a blushing person, but he could feel the heat radiating from that tiny ember in his chest, Bokuto’s love warming him from the inside out. “That’s… not true. You helped too, Kou,” he breathed, fingers fiddling with the handle of the spoon, twirling it around. 

Bokuto’s wings gave a happy little wiggle, the feathers puffing out just like they did whenever he was happy or proud and in this case, both. “ _We_ made them, Keiji.” 

“I suppose we did. So,” Akaashi leaned forward on his forearms, chin propped up in a palm, “you did this to distract me?” He kept his tone light and playful, but there was an underlying heaviness to it. 

Bokuto belonged to the Vis faction, which valued brawn and physical prowess; unfortunately, many people translated that to the assumption that he was stupid or daft. In reality, Bokuto Koutarou was one of the most emotionally intelligent people Akaashi had ever met. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t a whiz at mathematics or a genius in chemistry; Akaashi would always love him for who he was, and he was constantly surprised and touched at the lengths that Bokuto went to in order to keep him happy and relaxed, the depth of which his boyfriend’s care and compassion went to. 

Bokuto brought a hand up to Akaashi’s face, tracing a fingertip over high, defined cheekbones and full brows. “Well, partly,” he said, his voice soft and yet still ringing in the silence of their apartment, chasing away the shadows soaked in the light of late dusk. “I can’t bear to see you upset, you know that. And also because you haven’t baked in a while and I missed your desserts.” 

Akaashi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Careful there, Koutarou. Keep this up and I’ll think that you’re just with me for my cooking.” He couldn’t help the smile that curled the edges of his lips, however, when Bokuto leaned over to press a soft kiss to his mouth. 

“I’m with you because I love all of you, every single part.” 

Another kiss, to the top of his head as Bokuto stood up. 

“I love your hair, and your intellect.”

Yet another kiss, to both his eyelids as they fluttered shut. 

“I love your beautiful eyes, and your insight.” 

A fourth kiss pressed to his lips again, lingering just a smidge longer than the rest. 

“I love your lips, and your words.” 

One last kiss, pressed just beneath the left side of his clavicle. 

“I love your heart of gold, and the rhythm it beats.” 

When Bokuto settled back into his chair, Akaashi’s breath had already been stolen from his lungs, unable to be contained behind slightly parted lips. _Lucky, lucky, lucky. I’m so goddamn lucky._

“Not lucky. Deserving.” 

Akaashi nearly startled. _Was I speaking aloud?_

“You still are, actually,” Bokuto smirked, laughing softly as he took both of Akaashi’s hands in his own. “You deserve this, to be happy, to be spoiled. You deserve respect, and love, and everything in-between. I love you, Akaashi Keiji.”

Akaashi swallowed hard as he felt something burn behind his eyes. _Am I seriously about to cry right now?_ He pulled back one of his hands to dab at the inner corners of his eyes, clearing his throat as quietly as he could. 

“I also love your brownies.” 

“ _Koutarou!_ ” Akaashi gasped, still partly touched and now very much scandalised too (only jokingly, of course).

“Kidding! Kidding— No, wait!” Bokuto scrambled off his chair and chased after his boyfriend, who had snatched away the whole plate of ice-cream and brownies, dashing to the kitchen. “Keijiiiiii!” 

Akaashi chuckled as his boyfriend pulled him back with gentle arms around his slim hips, peppering his neck with short, sweet kisses. _Just a while more. I think we can stand to put away our problems for just a little longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Not me writing my anxiety and overthinking tendencies into Akaashi, and my obsession for [Bubble Pop Electric](https://open.spotify.com/track/4A2vjMnkAWgPVqwl3Xc7pu?si=FaZzg8HqQrG8IuaPxBq-4Q) into Bokuto—)
> 
> Will you still love me when I no longer update regularly…
> 
> Welp, here we are again: exam season. I’m telling you guys now straight off the bat that I probably won’t be updating regularly for the next month or so, but if you’ve been around long enough you’d know that I have no self-control or sense of priority whatsoever, so… stay tuned ;) *salutes and tips off edge of building with Bamboleo playing in the background*

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, new AU here we GOOOOOOO!! Unfortunately, school is kicking my ass really damn hard, so I might not be able to update as often as I used to. I’ll try to aim for once a week though! Please leave a kudos and comment if you feel up to it, they are literal serotonin boosts :>
> 
> This is your cue to drink some water and eat a snack if you’re hungry! And if it’s past 3 a.m., _please go to sleeeeeeeep._ Love y’all, and see you soon :D


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